


say yes (if you want to)

by rainingover



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe- Supernatural, Blood Drinking, Explicit Consent, Halloween, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: "So, what are you meant to be?” Mark asks.Johnny is dressed in black jeans—tight around the thighs, Mark notices— and a V-neck t-shirt that reveals an expanse of tanned skin. He's not even wearing animal ears."Vampire," Johnny says with a hint of a smile. Mark really can't stop looking at his lips.“Really? But you don't even have a cape!" Mark laughs.Johnny shrugs. “Maybe, but my fangs are pretty cool.”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 40
Kudos: 354
Collections: Challenge #2 — tricks; treats; and terrors





	say yes (if you want to)

Donghyuck abandons Mark in the kitchen less than ten minutes after they get to the party, not that Mark wasn't expecting this to happen. It's not so bad, really— the beer is cold and no one has accused him of trying to come onto their boyfriend yet for no reason, so he's already having a better time than he did when they went out last Halloween.

He is practising baring his fangs in the camera on his phone when Mark notices a man standing in the doorway, watching him.

“What are you meant to be?” The man asks when Mark realises he’s been caught making faces.

Mark pockets his phone and pretends not to be embarrassed. “Vampire. I have the fangs and everything, see?” He opens his mouth to show off the plastic fang mouth-piece, and then feels awkward again.

Lucily, the man laughs at this, like Mark’s really funny. “ _Spooky_.”

“It was a bit of a last minute costume,” Mark admits. “My friend dragged me here to stalk a guy. Want a beer?"

The man nods and accepts a drink. “Stalk?”

Mark rephrases it. “Not _stalk_ ," he says. "They’ve been seeing each other casually and… Well, you know how Halloween makes people horny.”

“Does it?” He raises an eyebrow. Mark tries not to focus on the way the bottle sits against his lips when he drinks from it. “I’m Johnny, by the way.”

“That's what I’ve heard," Mark mumbles. He can feel the heat in his face. He didn’t expect to be alone with a hot stranger tonight and he can barely remember how to act cool at the best of times, never mind right now. “I’m Mark. So, what are you meant to be?”

Johnny is dressed in black jeans—tight around the thighs, Mark notices— and a V-neck t-shirt that reveals an expanse of tanned skin. He's not even wearing _animal_ ears. 

"Vampire," Johnny says with a hint of a smile. Mark _really_ can't stop looking at his lips. 

“Really? But you don't even have a cape!" Mark laughs.

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe, but my fangs are pretty cool.”

“Hmm.” Mark is pretty proud of his own handiwork sticking his own fake fangs in tonight, especially considering he’d drank three bears before Donghyuck had turned up at his place dressed in a red catsuit and devil horns, thrust the dollar store costume at him and said, “We’re going to Renjun’s party.”

"Are yours a mouthpiece or are they glue-on?" Mark asks. He can't see fangs when Johnny talks, but maybe he's got those expensive, subtle ones that fit the shape of your tooth. It would be kind of weird to pay for those and then not even throw a bit of fake-blood around. “ _Or_ do yours just slip over the tooth?“

Johnny looks at him as though he’s speaking another language. "I have no idea what you're asking me.I just have the regular kind of fangs. _Real_ ones."

Mark laughs. “Here,” he says and removes his cape awkwardly. His fingers get caught up in the lace as he unties it, so maybe he’s drunker than he realised, but he gets it off and hands it to his new friend. “Put this on, then you’ll give off more of a vampire vibe.”

Johnny looks bemused. He takes the cape and dramatically swooshes it over his shoulders, like the action comes naturally to him. “Was that convincing?”

Mark can’t stop grinning, and maybe it’s just because he’s drunk but he can barely look away from Johnny’s dark eyes. “I mean, I’mconvinced.”

“As long as you’re impressed.” Johnny smiles. “Hey, If I go outside to smoke, will you still be right here when I come back? ”

Mark wasn’t planning on going anywhere anyway, but he isn’t exactly going to blow his chance to spend his night talking to the hottest guy at the party. “If you want me to be,” he shrugs.

“I do,” Johnny says. He looks kind of serious about it, and still Mark can barely look away from his eyes, his mouth… There’s something about Johnny that makes Mark feel like he needs to know him better, but also like he should leave the party and not look back. “But you don’t have to.”

Mark’s mouth is dry. All he can manage to say is, “It’s cool.”

Johnny smiles.

Donghyuck returns to the kitchen when Mark’s alone again. 

“Who’s the tall guy I’ve seen you talking to?” He asks, his PVC catsuit squeaking as opens the fridge to grab a drank.. Mark has no idea how Donghyuck is even _alive_ inside the catsuit, it looks so hot. 

“He’s called Johnny.” Mark grins. He feels dizzy. “He’s hot, right?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. He's judging, Mark can feel it. “He’s not even wearing a costume. No effort _whatsoever_."

“ _I’m_ only wearing a costume because you brought it to my place and forced me to put it on," Mark points out.

“Deep down you’re glad I did.” Donghyuck pouts and slinks off to find someone to make out with.

He’s not wrong.

When Johnny returns, he looks glad to see Mark. “You waited,” he says.

Mark hesitates. Isn’t that what Johnny wanted? “I mean, you asked me to wait, so… Yeah. I’m here.” He suddenly feels self conscious under the harsh kitchen lights. Feels awkward, like the dumb stick-on fangs are making his mouth feel full and his words sound like they’re not rounded out. 

Johnny smiles, or maybe it’s more of a smirk. Mark doesn’t know him well enough to be able to tell. Either way, it makes Mark feel hot under the collar. “Are you usually this eager to do what you’re told, Mark?”

“Uh. I mean… I wouldn’t do things I didn’t _want_ to.” He shrugs. He’s never exactly been a rule breaker, but he’s not, like, a pushover. Mark knows what he wants; it’s just that quite often what he wants is to do exactly what his friends feel like doing. That doesn’t mean he isn’t _assertive_. “I wanted to wait for you to come back.”

Johnny smiles. “I see.” He licks his lips. “Interesting. Would you come home with me if I asked you to do that?”

Mark stills. This has taken an interesting turn, he thinks. Something in the back of his head tells him to say no. “Yeah. If I _wanted_ to, I would.”

“And do you want to?”

Mark hesitates. Johnny doesn’t feel dangerous, but just to be sure, he says, “Would you come back to mine instead?”

“Sure. If you’d prefer that.” He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure Mark out. He smiles after a few moments. “Should we have another drink?”

Mark nods. “One more,” he says. He smiles sheepishly. “I’ve already had a lot. I don’t wanna, like, get to that tired stage and pass out on one of those sofas.”

“I don’t want that either,” Johnny agrees. “I don’t sleep and I don’t think you want to tonight.”

Mark gets chills and for the first time that night it hits him that he might be the one who gets laid on Halloween this year. 

Maybe, he thinks, halloween really _is_ the horniest holiday of the calendar.

Mark has one more beer, and then he’s warm and a little drunk, but not to the extent he’s been at parties before. Not being wasted means he’ll remember everything in the morning, which is good because he has plans, but it also means that he hasn’t drunk enough to take the edge of his nerves, which is less good. Not _bad_ , though. Mark gets the impression that tonight will be one he'll want to remember. 

He's certainly never asked someone as hot as Johnny to go home with him before, anyway.

He’s thinking about what might happen later, when Johnny nudges him and asks, “Are you okay?” in a low voice—one like the softest of velvet, low and soothing. When Mark looks at him, Johnny’s eyes are intense, like he’s forgotten anyone else is even in the room.

Mark’s breath catches in his throat. "I'm good," he says, and then, before he can chicken out, he adds "Do you want to leave soon?"

Johnny smiles and gives the smallest, most subtle of nods and then excuses them from the group of enchanted looking people who have formed around them over the course of the evening in the kitchen. They don’t even bother to hide their disappointment, and Mark suddenly finds it kind of funny that he’s taking the tall, dark and handsome stranger home when he’s dressed like _this_ , like he’s starring in a very, _very_ amateur production of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

When they get outside, Mark realises that Johnny’s still wearing the cheap, polyester cape that Mark gave him earlier, and yet he makes it look good. Expensive, even. Like he was _born_ to wear it. He’s so attractive, Mark can really see it now in the moonlight, not that he couldn’t before. It’s just that under the moonlight, everything about him seems sharper, more defined. Mark’s heart beats faster, anticipation rising.

Mark’s place is only a few blocks away, which is useful because his legs feel like jelly and he isn’t sure how to fill the silence for too long now that this brain is struggling to think of anything other than how plump and soft Johnny’s mouth looks and how well built he is underneath his t-shirt. “Sorry. I don’t do this very often,” he admits. 

“This?”

“One night stands,” Mark clarifies. “Not that I’m presuming that we’re gonna have sex tonight or anything!” 

Johnny smiles at him, slow and wicked, like Mark has said the silliest thing. “We are. If you want to. Do you want that?” The moon bathes Johnny in a white glow, and he looks almost iridescent for a moment. 

Mark nods.

When they get to his building, they take the elevator up to Mark’s floor. The lights in the elevator flicker as they ride, and it gives Mark chills down his spine. He needs to call maintenance about that in the morning.

The fifteen steps to Mark’s door seem to take forever, but then they’re there and Mark is entering the keycode with fumbling fingers. He pushes the door open after it unlocks, looking at Johnny to head inside, but Johnny doesn’t move. “You need to invite me in,” he says. It’s got to be a joke, but Johnny isn’t smiling.

Mark laughs anyway. “Good one,” he says, but Johnny doesn’t move.

“Please come in, Johnny” Mark says, mouth dry. When Johnny steps over the threshold, he laughs again, but it gets caught in his throat as soon as Johnny leans in to kiss him.

“Oh shit—fangs!” Mark pulls away. “Sorry, I still have my fake fangs in. I’ll just— uh give me a second.” He turns away to remove the plastic triangles. Maybe Johnny had the right idea, wearing no costume tonight.

When he turns back, Johnny has removed the black cape and is loosening the top few buttons of his shirt, “Can I use mine? Do you want that?”

Mark hesitates. “Want… Your fangs?” 

“I won’t do anything you don’t agree to.” Johnny hesitates, looking unsure for the first time that night. “I won’t compel you to do anything. I’m not like that. That’s why… Earlier, when I asked if you wanted to wait for me. I wanted to be certain you were into this of your own accord and not because of my...My pull.”

“Consent is important.” Mark nods. He isn’t completely sure what he’s talking about, even though it sounds very grown-up and sensible. His past hookups haven't included a lot of talking. His past hook-ups haven’t mentioned their “pull” before. Mark isn’t quite sure what’s going on. “You’re really cool. This is cool,” he says.

“You know, you smell like 1899 and that was one of my favourite years,” Johnny says. Mark’s confused, but he’s also incredibly horny. “I’m going to kiss you now, if you want—“

“I _want_ ,” Mark interrupts him, and leans in to meet his lips in a kiss. Mark’s heartbeat crashes in his ears as Johnny holds him close, and then they’re half walking, half kissing their way to the bedroom, Johnny reaching out to unbutton Mark’s fake-blood stained shirt as they go.  
  
  


By the time they get to the bedroom, they’re undressed, and when they break their kiss for air and to slip off their underwear, Mark sees that even in the dark, Johnny’s eyes glow. Johnny’s skin is cold but his kiss is hot. His chest is well sculpted and he groans against Mark’s mouth, rolling his hips against Mark’s body. It all feels so good to Mark, like an assault on his senses, that he wants to last forever. 

Johnny kisses like he’s _hungry_. He pulls away suddenly, hovering over Mark, pressed down on the bed underneath him. “I can’t remember, did you say yes?”

Mark looks up at him, heart racing, drunk on Johnny's mouth, on his hands and his dark gaze. “Huh?”

“My fangs, did you say it was okay for me to use them?” Johnny asks, his voice hoarse. “I need you to say it.”

“It’s…. yeah. Yeah.” Mark nods, but he doesn’t really know what he’s agreeing to. What fangs? The fangs were a joke, Johnny doesn’t have fangs. _Mark_ had fangs, plastic ones, and they’re gone now. 

“Okay. Good.”

Johnny doesn’t have fangs, except Mark feels the pinch of a sharp tooth on his bottom lip, and then the coppery taste of blood, and then Johnny is moaning, a low rumble against Mark’s skin.

When Mark looks up, the endless mirrors of Johnny's eyes reflect his swollen lips, smeared with a drop of blood, back at him. Johnny reaches out and cups Mark’s chin in his hand. He smiles, a row of pearly white teeth, accompanied by two dagger-sharp canine teeth, teeth that Mark is sure he couldn’t see earlier. Teeth that aren’t made of plastic and are very much real.

“Oh shit. I thought you were joking.” He swallows a rumble of nerves. “But your fangs, they’re—they’re real.”

 _Vampire_. 

“Ah.” Johnny frowns. He looks a little worried. “I wasn’t joking. Do you not want to…?”

“No, I do want to,” Mark breathes in. This is fucking wild, he thinks. No wonder the costume looked subtle, it wasn’t a costume at all. “I’m just… Processing.”

Johnny hums softly. “Take your time, I have a lot of it,” he says. Mark almost laughs. He wonders how much time Johnny’s had already. How old is he? He looks like he’s twenty five, but how long has he looked twenty five?

Mark gulps. “Okay.” He isn’t sure what to think, he can barely form a coherent one thought at all. “And, just to be clear, you’re a vampire?”

Johnny nods. “Like I said when we met.”

Mark closes his eyes. “We met at a _costume_ party, that’s kind of confusing.” He opens his eyes and sits up. "I don’t consent to not being alive. Just to be clear. I don’t consent to that.”

“I hear you.” Johnny actually laughs this time. His eyes are like deep, endlessly black pools, but he still looks good, _trustworthy_ even. He runs his palm down over the slope of Mark’s neck, to his collar-bone. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“By biting me?” Mark holds his breath. Johnny’s hands are cold but everywhere he touches burns up. Mark’s hard, and he’s aching, and Johnny’s got that dark gaze again.

“By _fucking_ you. But if you’ll let me bite you as well, I can promise you that feels good too.” Johnny’s hand slips betweens Mark’s legs and he strokes him slowly.

“As long as I’ll be okay in the morning,” Mark says. He relaxes into Johnny’s touch. “I have to get brunch with my mom.” He hopes that the wide eyed doe-eyes he’s giving will ensure the vampire in his bed won’t leave him bleeding out when he should be eating French toast. 

Johnny smiles, he looks half amused, half fond. “I like you,” he says, running his thumb along the soft, sensitive swell of Mark’s bottom lip. “You’ll go to brunch. But now I need you to form a coherent string of thoughts and words, and to tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want to feel good. I want—I want your _fangs_.” Mark can’t stop staring at them. “I want you to feel good too. And the fangs. Yeah, you can use them.”

When Johnny finally bites into his skin, right there under his ear, Mark feels lighter than he’s ever felt. He feels like he’s soaring, like he’s ascended to a higher plane. The sting where Johnny’s fangs have broken the skin on his neck makes him burn hot, and he feels like everything under his skin is electric. And then Johnny starts to _drink._

He’s still latched into the vein in Mark’s neck when Johnny slides a finger inside of him, and Mark sees stars. No, he sees _moons_. He feels the touch everywhere. Johnny works him open with his fingers while he laps at the puncture wounds on Mark’s neck, and Mark is infinitely glad Donghyuck dragged him out to that party. 

“Sorry for my shitty vampire costume,” he mumbles, later, worn out and enjoy the slow release of ecstasy that apparently comes with sleeping with the undead, and Johnny chuckles.

“I’ve seen worse,” he soothes, the sharp scratch of his fangs still there on Mark’s skin. There’s an infectious sort of amusement in his voice as he says, “It was better than mine. I didn’t even have a _cape_.”

“True,” Mark mumbles, and when Johnny kisses him again, he tastes the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. 


End file.
